His Return
by sweetiegrrl
Summary: Finally! A new chapter!!! Spike comes home with *more* than just his soul...B/S all the way!
1. Homecoming

His Return  
  
By Sweetiegrrl  
  
  
  
DISCLAIMER: Unless you are severely stupid, you will realize that I *am NOT* Joss Whedon. In the case, however, that you *are* severely stupid, let me reiterate. I am not Joss Whedon. If I were Joss Whedon, I'd have millions of dollars and be the proud owner of three franchises, as well as Spike. *Lucky, lucky man, that Joss* But, alas, I am not he. I am but a poor girl who wishes to make the Buffy-verse fit my liking.  
  
SPOILERS: Up to end of season six. Wild spec from there.  
  
FEEDBACK: I *live* for it!  
  
DISTRIBUTION: It'd be an honor. Please, take it if you want it. Just tell me where it's going in an e-mail first.  
  
RATING: Probably just an overall PG-13. I'm not a smut writer yet, though I am a fan!  
  
SUMMARY: Uhhh...someone returns. Sure the summary sucks, but I can't give it all out! Just be happy to know that it *is* B/S.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: At this point, I'm not entirely sure if I want to make this a series or not. I have a plan in case I do make it a series, so I'll know where I'm going with this, but I don't know if I want to make it long term. I'll definitely have at least one more part to it, in any case. If I get some response to it, however, I'll go through with my full story. Hope you like it.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE II: I just realized that I cannot, for the life of me, work html documents. If anyone can explain to me how to italicize, underline, and make the text bold, please send me an e-mail to explain and I'll be much obliged. I hate feeling stupid! Until then, thoughts, noises, and emphasis will all be between these - *. Thoughts are between sets of two, such as Spike thinking **Bloody Hell!**, and sounds and emphasis are between sets of one, like a demon going *splat!* Get it? Got it? Good. Sorry to waste so much of your time!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
CHAPTER ONE ~ Homecoming  
  
  
  
  
  
*Drip...drip...drip...drip...*  
  
  
  
"Ooof!" Buffy grunted as she turned the wrench and tightened the piping underneath the kitchen sink. "Darn...leaky...sink...stop...dripping!" She punctuated each word with a violent twist of the wrench.  
  
  
  
*Drip...drip...drip...drip...*  
  
  
  
"Ugh," Buffy groaned, then rolled her neck wearily and got out from under the sink. She fixed a glare upon the offending faucet. "I give up! Go ahead and drip. *Rot* the wood paneling for all I care!" Sighing, she looked skyward. "Great. Now I'm talking to a piece of plumbing. You know, living a normal life is *really* overrated. Give me a fight with a Grr'alnck demon over household chores any day."  
  
  
  
Taking off the soaked yellow poncho she wore just in case she burst a pipe, which was an inevitability in her life, Buffy made her way into the living room. Plopping down onto the couch, and in doing so drenching every piece of fabric she touched, she picked up the remote and began flicking through the channels.  
  
  
  
The summer had been hectic. After Willow's attempted apocalypse, a lot of dark energy took up residence in good ol' SunnyD, bringing a lot of dark demons along with it. Wars were waged, epic battles were fought, good versus evil, blah, blah, blah. The gist of it was that Buffy was tired. *Very* tired. **Fighting countless end-of-the-world battles will do that to a gal.** Luckily for her, however, the gang would take over every once in awhile to give the Slayer a break and let her do normal girl things. **I still say normal is overrated. **  
  
  
  
With Willow still in recovery, more emotional than magickal, and Tara...gone, Giles had taken over as the resident spell-caster. He had also become a mentor for Dawn, training her regularly in both martial arts and some white magick at her and Buffy's requests. He had promised to remain in Sunnydale for a few more months, until everyone was stable again and the demon threat was reduced, but he would have to return to England eventually. Buffy dreaded that day.  
  
  
  
Xander had found a renewed sense of faith in himself as a super-powerless member of the Scoobies after he was able to talk Willow down from her evil, end-of-the-world plan. He no longer thought of himself as the Zeppo, but as someone who *was* able to contribute to the good cause.  
  
  
  
Anya was still a Vengeance Demon, though strictly in a vengeance-less sense. She hadn't granted a single wish since she had been turned back, by her own choice. After her tryst with Spike months back, she learned that evisceration wasn't the answer, no matter how fun it may be. Also, she and Xander had tentatively began speaking civilly to each other again, and they were both working on getting past their past.  
  
  
  
Willow had been the only Scooby *not* dealing with her problems and moving forward. For weeks after *that day*, she had refused to leave her room at the Summers' house other than to shower or eat. She would only sit on the bed, most often while holding an article of Tara's clothing, and cry. Cry for her lost love, cry for the evil she had done, and cry for the apocalypse she had almost caused. When she finally did come out of her room, she wasn't the same perky, peppy Willow that they had all known and loved. She was a broken woman, and she hadn't been the same since.  
  
  
  
**Too much reflecting**, Buffy thought. **Dwelling on badness is...well, bad. Duh.** As she turned her head towards toward the kitchen while un- kinking her neck, Buffy caught a glimpse of the clock and hopped off the couch. "Oh, crap!" She ran her tired hands over her face as she searched mess on the coffee table for her keys. "It's three-thirty. Dawn's gonna *kill* me for not picking her up!" Finally grabbing her keys, the Slayer made her way to the front door. "Guess this means I get moody teenager duty for the next couple days," she said sulkily.  
  
  
  
Just as she was about to open it, a sharp knock sounded from the other side of the door. **That's gotta be Xander,** Buffy thought. **He said he'd be here sooner. Oh, well. At least now *he* can go pick her up and be on the receiving end of the Wrath of Dawn for a while. I *really* need a break.**  
  
  
  
As she opened the door, her keys dropped to the ground. Buffy spoke while bending down to reach them, and without looking up. "Hey, Xand. Glad you're here. Dawn wanted you to..." She trailed off as her gaze met the two black Doc Martens in front of her. Her eyes traveled upwards as she stood, over the black Levi jeans, past the lean torso and muscular arms contained in the tight, black, long-sleeved cotton tee, up the chiseled cheekbones and well-defined face, and finally resting on the pair of ice- blue eyes currently staring softly back at her.  
  
  
  
Spike gave a small smile. "Hello, Buffy."  
  
  
  
Buffy stood staring back at him in shock, and her mouth gaping open and closed, giving her a fishy resemblance. It was taking her awhile to process this new information.  
  
  
  
**Spike...sunlight...Spike...sunlight...SPIKE!!!**  
  
  
  
Dazedly, she remarked, "I can't form words..."  
  
  
  
Spike began to look worried. "Uh, I think you just did, pet..."  
  
  
  
Finally snapping out of it, Buffy roughly pulled Spike into the house, making him cry out in surprise, and closed the door behind them with a slam.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
To be continued... 


	2. Forgive Me?

CHAPTER TWO ~ Forgive Me?  
  
  
  
  
  
Buffy still stood facing the door, making a vain attempt of gathering her wits, while Spike quietly walked into the living room and took her previous spot on the couch. Feeling the sodden fabric beneath him, he looked back up to the Slayer. "You know your couch is soaked through, right? Buffy?"  
  
  
  
She paid him no mind, and continued to stare at the spot on the door, her fingers still lightly resting on the doorknob. Spike nodded to himself, then began to look around the room nervously.  
  
  
  
Finally, after about a minute or so, Buffy turned around sharply and focused a glare upon him. "What the *hell* are you doing?!"  
  
  
  
Spike looked down at his feet and sighed. He didn't expect to be welcomed back into her life with open arms, did he? **Stupid git. ** Oh, well. He had planned on explaining himself, anyways, and he should have figured Buffy wouldn't be happy to see him. He once again looked up at her, took a deep breath, and started to explain, "Buffy…" Then, of course, she cut him off.  
  
  
  
"Why the hell were you just *standing* out there in the sunlight?! Do you *want* to become a crispy critter?!!" She stomped into the room and glowered directly above him, both hands placed squarely on her hips. "Do you *want* to die?!"  
  
  
  
By now, Spike had a full-blown smile plastered on his face. "Thought I was already dead, luv?  
  
  
  
"Shut up, Spike."  
  
  
  
Spike smirked even more, if that was possible, and let out a small chuckle. "Oh, so we're back to old habits already, then? Thought it'd take a little longer to kick in than that. Was more expecting a nice 'How've ya' been, Spike?', or maybe a 'What've you been up to the past five months, Spike?' Never thought I'd get a lecture, though."  
  
  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes, sighed, sat down gently on the table in front of him, and looked into his eyes. She picked up both of his hands into hers, then spoke softly, barely above a whisper. "Where have you been, Spike? Where *were* you?"  
  
  
  
Spike was thrown by this turn of events. It never ceased to amaze him how Buffy could go from rampaging, bitch queen to lost, little girl in less than two seconds. He had *really* missed her. He continued staring down at their joined hands, lost in his thoughts, until he finally realized he should say something. "Uh, Africa. I was in Africa."  
  
  
  
Buffy looked at him with a face that was an odd mixture of shock and humor. "Africa? Lion King, Heart of Darkness-y Africa? Why the heck would you go there? When?"  
  
  
  
Spike looked back down to the floor, guilt practically written on his face. "You should know the 'why' and the 'when'. Happened just before I left, didn't it?"  
  
  
  
Buffy understood this, and was beginning to mentally smack herself for asking stupid questions like that, when Spike began to speak again, still staring at the spot on the floor. "I needed to get sorted out. Needed to get a purpose in life again."  
  
  
  
Buffy smiled. "Don't you mean un-life?"  
  
  
  
Spike grinned as well, still looking at his boots. "Yeah. Anyway, Clem knew a bloke in Uganda, some sort of demon-shaman guy. He told me if I did a few trials, the basic kill-or-be-killed deal, that he'd make me whole again. Make me what I was before the chip."  
  
  
  
Buffy stopped smiling. "Wait. You wanted to be evil again? You wanted to get the chip out and start killing people again?"  
  
  
  
"That was the basic plan, yeah. Though the evil wasn't necessarily involved. I just wanted to have a choice again. I didn't want to be some love-whipped puppy, following you around begging for scraps. And I was fed up of being soft. At least I thought I was." He chuckled. "Funny how things *never* work out the way I plan."  
  
  
  
His face turned solemn once again. "After what I did…to you…I felt guilt, Buffy. Real, dirty, shameful guilt. That's not something a vampire's supposed to feel. I wouldn't have been able to feed if I had. It…it…the feeling confused me. Heck, I didn't even really realize what it was I was feeling until a few months ago. I thought the only way I could feel that horrible, that low, was if it was a result of the chip. The chip made me love you. The chip made me soft. The chip made me stop wanting to tear a person's head from his neck and drink from it like a fountain."  
  
  
  
Buffy made a thoroughly-ewwed face. "Really nice image there."  
  
  
  
Another little laugh escaped his lips. "Sorry. But the whole point was that I blamed it on the chip. And it had to come out one way or another. Either I got it out, went out on a killing spree, and got back to my old wicked ways, or I got it out, came back to you, pet, and proved that I could be good, once and for all. But, like I said, my *plans* have a way of not working out."  
  
  
  
"So you don't have your chip out?" Buffy asked warily.  
  
  
  
Spike shook his head. "Well, it's out, more or less. It still might be in there, but it doesn't do anything anymore." He looked up into her despairing face. "Look, Slayer, don't get all hot and bothered about it. I haven't done anything, and I *won't* be doing anything, understand?"  
  
  
  
"How can I trust you? How can I believe that you won't turn on me? That you won't… get pissed at me some time and go kill off all my friends?" Buffy stared pleadingly into his eyes. "Can I trust you, Spike?"  
  
  
  
Spike took her hands tightly into his own and looked into her eyes. "You wouldn't have been able to. I'd love to say that I would've been good, that I'd be all noble and fight the good fight by your side." He sighed deeply. "But I couldn't have guaranteed that. I wish I could have, but… it was so hard, luv. You have no idea how it feels, to have a demon raging inside of you, constantly demanding violence and bloodshed when you can't give in to it." He stopped, then moved one of his hands from hers and placed it on her cheek. "But I can guarantee it now. I'll never hurt you, Buffy. Least not intentionally."  
  
  
  
Buffy couldn't move. She didn't know what to think, or do, or feel. It just seemed like this was all too much, all too fast. Luckily for her though, Spike had started to talk again. "I need to ask you something, luv."  
  
  
  
"What *kind* of something?" she asked cautiously.  
  
  
  
"Just a favor. Would it be possible…I mean…can you ever forgive me, Buffy? Will it…will it ever be possible for you to forgive me for what I did and…almost did?"  
  
  
  
Buffy stared at their entwined hands, and the one that rested on her cheek. She looked back to him. "You can't ask for forgiveness, Spike. It's not something that can be requested. It has to be given."  
  
  
  
Spike slowly withdrew his hand from her cheek, and was in the process of removing his other hand from hers when she suddenly grabbed onto both of them. "I gave it to you."  
  
  
  
Spike looked at her aghast. "You forgive me? How could you forgive me?! After what I did? How could you *not* want me dead and buried?!"  
  
  
  
Buffy was confused now. "Weren't you just *asking* me to forgive you?" She shook her head. "It doesn't matter, anyway. I do, Spike. I forgive you. To be totally honest, I forgave you as soon as you left that night."  
  
  
  
Spike stood up. "But…"  
  
  
  
Buffy pulled him back down and stared him in the eyes. "No buts. Forgiveness is something that's given, I gave it to you, deal with it."  
  
  
  
Spike looked at her in pure awe and adoration. "God, I love you."  
  
  
  
Buffy shrunk back, instinctively pulling her hands from his own. Spike hung his head down in disgust at himself and began to apologize. "Buffy, I'm…"  
  
  
  
"No…Don't." She slowly smiled at him and placed her hands back in his. "I know, Spike. I know."  
  
  
  
They sat there for a few minutes, saying nothing, absorbing all that had happened in only the past few minutes. Their hands never left each other's grasp.  
  
  
  
Finally, Buffy was the first to speak, and when she did, it was in the quietest, barely there voice possible. "Can you forgive me?"  
  
  
  
Spike looked up at her, once again shocked more than he thought was possible. "Forgive *you*? For what?"  
  
  
  
"For being a grade-A, superbitch all last year when all you did was love me. For using you, and hurting you, and beating you to a bloody pulp in some alley. For never letting you know that I actually cared about you. All of the above."  
  
  
  
He looked at her like she was crazy, then spoke softly. "Buffy, luv, I never *blamed* you for any of that. Yeah, it was wrong. And maybe I should have. But I didn't. So yeah, I forgive you. I've always forgiven you, and I always will."  
  
  
  
She smiled at him, then finally noticed the tears that were running down her cheeks and let out a small giggle. "God, I'm blubbering." She wiped her eyes. "Sorry. So, forgiveness all around then? Good. Very good. Um…how about some more about these trials? Exactly *what* do you mean be 'to the death'? And hey, apparently you won, so how'd you…kill…it…" Some slight detail that Buffy had neglected earlier finally drove itself into her brain as her sentence drifted off.  
  
  
  
Spike looked at her concerned. "What's wrong, pet?"  
  
  
  
All Buffy could do was point at a spot behind him. He turned around, and saw what was bothering her. Spike sat directly in the path of a sunbeam coming through the window behind him.  
  
  
  
And he wasn't dusty.  
  
  
  
Buffy at last regained her ability to speak. "Spike…you're not dead."  
  
  
  
Spike looked her in the eyes. "I know." He rubbed her hands within his. "I'm alive, Buffy." 


	3. Into the Sun

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks everyone for the wonderful reviews! Makes me happy! Just wanted to remind you all that this is just pure speculation, and fluffy spec at that. It's not based on any spoilers for season seven, just from what we got at the end of season six. I also wrote this before reading the Jane Espenson interview, so it's not according to canon, but who gives a flying hoo-hah. Sure, it would probably never happen, but I wanted some fluff, and I'm not waiting four more months to see it! So suspend your disbelief, and enjoy!  
  
  
  
  
  
CHAPTER THREE ~ Into the Sun  
  
  
  
  
  
Buffy sat there, in shock for not the first time that day. Her eyes rested on his platinum blonde hair, glittering and gleaming in the sunlight. **How could I be so STUPID?! ** Buffy chastised herself. **I saw him standing out in the sun, non-smokey. I held his *warm* hands in my own! Am I that thick? Well, yeah, sure, seeing him there *kinda* stunned me, so maybe I wasn't thinking straight. But still, humanity's not something you really fail to notice. At least *I* don't. ***  
  
  
  
Spike began to worry. Maybe this was too much for her. Maybe he should have explained his *situation* to her when he first arrived. But seeing her for the first time in five months…he didn't want to ruin it. He wanted to revel in her for as long as he could, and he wasn't sure what her reaction would have been to the news. It's not like Buffy didn't have a history of kicking him out the front door when she was confused. He didn't want her to push him away again. "Luv…"  
  
  
  
"How?" The sound that came out of her mouth was miniscule, and it took all of Spike's hearing abilities to decipher it. She finally looked back into his eyes and spoke more clearly, "How, Spike?"  
  
  
  
Spike chuckled softly. "Told you my plans had a way of going wonky, didn't I pet?"  
  
  
  
Buffy smiled despite herself. "Yeah, I got that. So lets make with the answers. And maybe go a little more in depth to those trials, 'kay?"  
  
  
  
Good. Buffy was dealing. And she hadn't kicked him out yet. That was a plus. He took a deep breath and continued his story, "Well, all that I told you before was true. I *did* go to Lurky to get the chip out, and to regain control of my *un*-life again. But apparently, that's not what I *really* wanted, and the demon knew that, even if I didn't." Spike sat back on the couch, legs splayed out, and made himself comfortable. "So, I did the trials. It's probably best not to get into them, seeing as they were pretty repetitive. Fight some demons, try not to get my head ripped off. That sort of deal. Oh, and there was this thing with these beetles crawling all over my face…" Buffy saw the flash of disgust on his face, which mirrored her own. "But like I said, let's not get into that… Uh, so anyways, I finished all the trials. Took me damn near a couple days to do it, too. So, I'm layin' there on the ground, tired from having my arse beat up and down the cave, when Lurky comes over to me. He tells me I completed all the trials, and let me tell you, I was relieved. For all the machismo and bravado I showed, I was dead tired, and I don't think I could've taken much more." Spike stopped, unsure of whether he wanted to tell her the rest of the details.  
  
  
  
Buffy had sort of fallen into a lull during his story telling, and was surprised by the sudden silence. She looked up at him and saw the confusion and trepidation written on his face. "Are you gonna go on any time soon?"  
  
  
  
Spike slightly nodded, more to himself and his resolve to tell her than to Buffy's question. He continued, "Yeah. So, the demon comes over to me, says I finished the trials, and now I'd get what I desired. Typical demon- speak, mostly." He once again took Buffy's hands, which she had been squeezing together in nervousness, and looked calmly, yet resolutely, into her eyes. "Then I told him to give me what I needed to take care of you…give you what you deserved…"  
  
  
  
In awe, Buffy took this in. "So he gave you back your soul…"  
  
  
  
He clutched her hands tightly. "And my humanity."  
  
  
  
**And I thought I *couldn't* be shocked anymore than I already was. ** Buffy once again couldn't seem to find her voice. *Spike* was what she needed? *Spike* was what she deserved? **Spike is what I deserve…** In her crazy life, for some reason it made sense. Buffy wasn't able to shake the feeling that this was always meant to be, that this is how it had been planned out long before they had ever known each other, before they had even *existed*. This was right.  
  
  
  
"So…" Her voice came out a bit shaky, but strangely calm. "Um, I have to go pick up Dawn. Actually, I was supposed to pick her up about a half hour ago, but then you showed up on my front porch…in broad daylight…kinda surprised me."  
  
  
  
Spike nodded. "I understand." He laughed a little. "Still expected you to at least notice I wasn't undead at little earlier than that, though, luv. Slayer senses, an' all."  
  
  
  
Buffy looked at him with a small grin. "Spike, you show up for the first time in months, on my front porch, in the *sunlight*, and you expected me *not* to wig? Sorry if I didn't get it all that quickly, but my brain wasn't exactly registering coherent thoughts. It was just registering you…here…"  
  
  
  
As he sat there with his soft blue eyes gazing at her, his breath coming out in a quickened pace from her words, the air turned thick between them. Buffy suddenly grew uncomfortable and stood up from her seat on the coffee table. She turned to grab her keys, then looked back at him. "Um, you can stay here for awhile while I run and get her, if you want. She should be pretty happy to see you, though she might be pissed that you've been gone so long. Teenage mood-swings, you know? And it probably won't help any that I'm an hour late picking her up. So…yeah…I'll see you when I get back, 'kay?"  
  
  
  
Spike nodded silently, already slightly disappointed with her departure, and Buffy turned from him, walking towards the door. Suddenly, she spun around and spoke again. "Or, you know, you could come with…sunlight not being a problem anymore. If anything, it'll shock the hell outta Dawn. What do you say?"  
  
  
  
Spike's wide grin threatened to take over his entire face, and he literally hopped off the couch. "I'm all for it, Slayer. It'll be nice to give someone a scare again, anyways."  
  
  
  
They both walked to the front entrance, and Buffy opened the door. "So, now that you're of the living, where are you planning on, well, living? I mean, the crypt can't be all that comfortable, at least when you have a pulse anyway."  
  
  
  
Spike smirked as he crossed through the doorway into the light. "Is that an invitation, Summers?"  
  
  
  
Buffy gasped a little too quickly, "No! No, no, no, no, no!" As he walked towards the car in the driveway, she turned around to shut the door and whispered to herself, "At least not yet."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
To be continued??? Help me out. I don't know if I should go any further than this. I have a plan if I do, but I don't know if I want to make this more than a quick short story. Opinions?  
  
  
  
And, please, Read & Review!!! It keeps me happy! 


	4. Bloody Revenge

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I love you all! Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews! They really made my day. I've never gotten more than fifteen reviews before, so this is *very* nice! Ahem, back to the story…Okay, so you've all convinced me. I'm gonna go through with the original whole story I had planned out before. This means the story will actually have a *plot*, and not just be pure, mindless Spuffy fluff. Though that's fun, too! And, cross my heart, the romance is comin'. I just wanna drag it out a bit. It's no fun if they kiss in the first chapter! Well, yeah, it is…but I don't wanna, and it's my fic, so…Pppppffff *blows raspberry** Hehe…just kidding. We'll see some B/S loving soon enough. I promise! On with the story…  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
CHAPTER FOUR ~ Bloody Revenge  
  
  
  
  
  
Buffy slid into the driver's seat and unintentionally closed the door behind her with a slam, causing Spike to jerk up in surprise. He had been turned facing his window, staring out into the daylight, and Buffy could tell his mind was in places that were not here. She wondered what he was thinking.  
  
  
  
The Slayer put the car into reverse, backed out of the driveway, and pulled onto the street. They both drove in silence for a few moments, neither quite knowing what to say or how to express what they were feeling. Buffy kept her eyes on the road in front of her, still inexperienced when it came to the whole driving thing, and Spike tapped his fingers over each and every available surface. First they tip-tapped against the side of the door, then roamed up to the window, fingernails clicking upon the glass. Finally, when Spike began drumming on the dashboard in some beat from a punk classic, Buffy spoke.  
  
  
  
"So, I take it you gave up smoking?"  
  
  
  
Spike looked over to her, startled, and placed his hands back on his knees. "Wha'? How'd you know that?"  
  
  
  
Buffy grinned and replied without looking at him, "Spike, I've known you for what, five years now? Whenever you get nervous, you light up. It's, like, a fact of life. So, you sitting here, pattering all over my car, tells me that you're nervous. You do that with your hands when you get nervous."  
  
  
  
Spike gave her a semi-leer. "I do other things with my hands, too, luv. Even when I'm not nervous…"  
  
  
  
Buffy smirked at his lame innuendo and continued her analysis, "Anyway, you only do that when you have nothing else to do with your hands, like ripping off a demon's head or puffing away at your cigarette. And something tells me you're not just being courteous and not smoking in my car since you're not the courteous type…"  
  
  
  
Spike replied defiantly, "I could too be courteous. If I wanted to…"  
  
  
  
"…So you must have given up smoking. I gotta admit, never thought I'd see the day. How's it going for ya'?" She felt like the smirk was permanently attached to her face.  
  
  
  
Spike grinned at the Slayer, thoroughly pleased. "Didn't know you knew me so well, pet. I think I may like it." **Hey, wait a minute… god, is Buffy *blushing*?!** He made Buffy *blush*! Spike couldn't conceal the giddiness and satisfaction on his face. "Yeah, luv. Gave it up 'bout two months ago. First time in over 125 years that I actually felt the stuff go down in my lungs, then I proceeded to hack one of said lungs up. Bloody frustrating, is what it was. I've got no idea what to do without my smokes. It's like they were a part of me…"  
  
  
  
"Like the duster?"  
  
  
  
Shame once again crept into Spike's face as he looked down to his lap. It took him a moment to speak again. "I assume you got rid of that thing, right?"  
  
  
  
"What? Of course not, Spike." Buffy felt that blush coming out in full force again. "Dawn and I…we hung it in the hall closet, a few days after everything settled down. We were…well, we were waiting to give it back to you…when you came home."  
  
  
  
Spike had to push these warm fuzzies down. He honestly felt he'd burst at any moment. Wait… "When things settled down? What happened here once I left?"  
  
  
  
Buffy let out a weary sigh. "A lot, Spike. Too much."  
  
  
  
Spike looked at her intently. "Go on."  
  
  
  
"Well, after you left, that geek-guy, Warren? He and I finally had it out. He had these orb-things that gave him superpowers. Didn't matter, though, 'cause I still kicked his ass. Anyway, I broke the orbs, kicked his ass some more, and then he flew off with a jet pack."  
  
  
  
"A jet pack?"  
  
  
  
"They're *geeks*, Spike. That's their thing. Anyway, Warren got away and Jonathan and Andrew were sent to jail. Then, the day after, Xander and I were in the backyard talking when Warren shows up with a *gun*. He shot me first, and another bullet strayed and hit Tara through the chest. It…it killed her…"  
  
  
  
Spike stared in front of him, trying to take this in. "He shot you… and he killed Glinda…"  
  
  
  
Buffy nodded, eyes filled with grief.  
  
  
  
He looked out the window, eyes cold. "I'm going to kill him."  
  
  
  
She sighed. "You can't."  
  
  
  
Spike turned to her, aghast. "Like *hell* I won't! Just 'cause I'm human now doesn't mean I'm gonna let someone hurt the people I love and *not* get bloody revenge!"  
  
  
  
Buffy shook her head slightly. "No, I mean you *can't*, as in literally. He's already dead…Willow killed him."  
  
  
  
Now Spike was truly stunned. "Red killed someone? A human?" He glanced out his window again. "Huh…Never thought she had it in her…"  
  
  
  
Buffy let out a small, bitter laugh. "Oh, she had it in her, alright. After Tara died, Willow went on a warpath. It was like…like she was being *controlled* by her fury. It was the scariest thing I've ever seen, and trust me, I've seen a lot of scary stuff." She paused when she came to a stop sign, then looked Spike in the eyes. "I had to *fight* her, Spike. I had to fight my best friend. And she *would* have killed me." She pulled out from the stop sign and continued, "Luckily for me, Giles arrived in the nick of time."  
  
  
  
"Giles is back?" Spike gave a genuine smile. "Leave it up to ol' Rupert to save the day. So, did he put the mojo on Willow?"  
  
  
  
"He tried. He got some borrowed magick or something from some coven. But Willow pretty much kicked his butt. I don't know exactly what went on between them, because I had to go save Dawn and Xander from a flaming fireball Will had sent after them," Buffy had to pause a moment at the sheer incredulity of it all, "but apparently everything worked out in the end, though the Magic Box was trashed. Giles was dying, Willow was raising some Satanic demoness to end the world, and Dawn and I got stuck down in the bottom of some huge grave Willow created for us, fighting these earth monsters." Buffy's face took on a look of undeniable pride. "Dawn seriously kicked some, Spike. I mean, she was really able to take care of herself in a fight. That's why we've been training her. And she's actually supposed to start patrolling with me by the end of this month."  
  
  
  
Spike laughed. "The Bit's patrollin'? God, she must love that!" Something twinkled behind his eyes. "Can't wait to see Niblet."  
  
  
  
Buffy glanced over at him, and the look of love for her sister on his face completely melted her heart.  
  
  
  
Spike turned to look back at her. "So what happened? How'd the goody-good guys come out on top?" He stopped and suddenly looked fearful. "Red's not dead, is she?"  
  
  
  
"No…no. Luckily it didn't come to that. Actually, it was Xander that sorta saved the day. I mean, Giles kinda sapped Willow's powers from her, but Xander was the one who finally talked her down."  
  
  
  
Spike looked disappointed. "So the Whelp's the hero of this piece, then?"  
  
  
  
Buffy couldn't help but grin at the sound of jealousy in his voice. "Kinda."  
  
  
  
"Can't say I'm too upset I missed it then. Except the killing Warren part. I'd have loved to have strung him up and torn ever strip of skin from his body…"  
  
  
  
Buffy let out a sheepish grin. "Uh, Willow sorta took care of that, too."  
  
  
  
Spike looked disgusted. "Bugger. Witch's really gonna have to work to get back from this, you know?"  
  
  
  
Buffy nodded as they finally pulled into the school's parking lot. "I know. She knows, too. It'll take her a while, and she's not even *close* yet, but she will come back. She has to." She sighed, then tried to shake the melancholy out of her voice. "So, you ready?" Spike nodded. "This is going to be great. Dawn's head's gonna explode when she sees you." They both got out of the car and headed into the building, Buffy's voice echoing through the air, "Not literally, of course…"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
To be continued…  
  
  
  
Okay, now I *promise* that next chapter we'll see someone *other* than Buffy and Spike! It's just that the two crazy kids had a lot of catching up to do, and I love writing their little convos. Now that that's over though, we'll start to get into the *real* story.  
  
  
  
And remember, please Read & Review!!! It gives me happies! 


	5. Some Things Stay the Same

AUTHOR'S NOTE: You guys are amazing! I love you! I really, *really* love you!!! Uh…*cough*…ahem…Anyway, seriously, thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews. It totally warms my heart and gives me fuzzies in my tummy. So keep doing it, 'kay? Anyway, as to the fic, I'm sorry it's taken this long to get into it, but we'll finally have some actual *plot* from here on out, not just the Buffy/Spike convos (though those are a hoot to write). Plus, this chapter and the last were supposed to be all one long chapter, but when I was writing the car scene, my fingers just kept typing like they had a life of there own. So now, it's two parts. But it's just as well, 'cause this is a long one too. And don't worry, it actually has some of the Scoobies in it. So here you go, and I hope you enjoy it!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
CHAPTER FIVE ~ Some Things Stay the Same  
  
  
  
  
  
Buffy walked down the pristine, white halls with Spike at her side, her heels clicking with each step. The secretary at the office had told them that Dawn had been waiting for the past hour for her ride, all the while giving Buffy a sour look that made her thoughts on the Slayer's ability as a guardian all too clear. Just as Spike was getting ready to tell the old bint to sod off, Buffy grabbed his arm and led him out the door and into the hallway.  
  
  
  
Spike looked around the school curiously, apparently deep in thought. They walked for a few minutes, trying to find the room Dawn was supposed to be in, when he finally spoke. "Is it just me, or does the school seem newer than the last time I was here?" His face was the picture of confusion, so much so that Buffy had to let out a small giggle.  
  
  
  
"No, this isn't the same building that you so *rudely* attacked me in." They walked a few paces, then she continued with a bright smile on her face, "I blew that one up." Spike raised an eyebrow to her, grinning devilishly, but said nothing.  
  
  
  
They finally arrived at Dawn's homeroom, where the girl was awaiting her ride. Buffy turned to Spike and smiled, whispering, "Wait for a sec while I go get her. Just stand here, 'kay? And…and don't make too much noise. I want her to be surprised. Oh, do you have a camera? This will definitely be a Kodak moment…"  
  
  
  
Spike took a hold of one of the Slayer's shoulders and smiled affectionately. "Calm down, luv. I'll wait right here." He nodded towards the door. "Just go in and get her. Don't want to keep Nibblet waiting any longer than she already has, do we?"  
  
  
  
Buffy couldn't help but respond to his smile, and nodded to him. "Right. Okay. Be right back." She turned into the room and Spike rested his back on the row of lockers behind him, wishing desperately for a fag.  
  
  
  
A few minutes had passed, and Spike cursed himself for the loss of his vamp hearing. He didn't want to admit it, but he was scared to death that Dawn would be angry with him for his departure. The Bit was the only person who had ever really cared about him, in his opinion. What happened if she hated him? What if she was too disgusted with him to even look him in the face? What if she had found out about the circumstances surrounding his leaving Sunnydale? Spike paced up and down the hallway, nervously tapping his fingers on the sides of the lockers as he passed. Finally, he heard one of the doors open up near where he was *supposed* to be, and rushed back up the hallway to meet the two sisters.  
  
  
  
As the door opened, he could hear their bickering.  
  
  
  
"Dawn, please. It really was an accident…something came up," Buffy pleaded.  
  
  
  
The teen rolled her eyes, stopped her angry stomping, and looked her sister in the eyes. "What, had another apocalypse to avert? Maybe some more slimy demons to slay? Fine. I get that. But couldn't you at least have gotten Xander, or even Anya, to pick me up? I mean, I had to stay an extra hour in detention, all by myself. Janice left, so I didn't even have anyone to pass notes to! Do you know how boring that is?!"  
  
  
  
Buffy looked back at her blankly, so Dawn just *huffed* and continued down the hall. She had only taken a few steps before she finally noticed the pale man dressed in black staring tenderly at her a few feet away. Spike gave a small, awkward half-smile, and Dawn stopped in her tracks. Her face was expressionless, and completely devoid of emotion. Buffy finally caught up to Dawn, and stood next to her sister with a worried look on her face. Maybe this wouldn't go as well as she had thought…  
  
  
  
The three stood like that for a few moments, not one of them daring to move from their place. Buffy and Spike glanced back and forth between each other and Dawn, but the Key's eyes hadn't moved from the ex-vampire once. All of a sudden, a wild shriek pierced the air, and before he knew it, Spike was tackled to the floor in a rush of auburn hair.  
  
  
  
It actually took him a moment before Spike realized he wasn't being mauled. Instead, he was just on the receiving end of an incredibly strong bear hug. The blonde smiled softly down at the mass of brown tresses currently nuzzling his neck, and patted her on the back. "How ya' been, Nibblet?"  
  
  
  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
  
The trio had made their way back to the car, Dawn refusing to let go of Spike. When they finally arrived at the vehicle, she grudgingly gave up her hold, then proceeded to smack him on the chest. "Where…the Hell…have you...been…you…asshole?!"  
  
  
  
Buffy pulled her sister off of him, then gave her an angry glare. "*What* have I told you about that kind of language? I don't want to hear that from you again."  
  
  
  
"But he…"  
  
  
  
Buffy's face was resolute and Spike smiled at her motherly ranting. "No buts. I want you to stop the swearing, or no training for a week and no going to Janice's. You understand?"  
  
  
  
Dawn lowered her head and muttered, "Fine."  
  
  
  
Buffy smiled again. "Good. Oh, and don't beat up on Spike. He'll get enough of it from me." She smirked at him, then got in the driver's seat, leaving him alone with Dawn.  
  
  
  
He slowly raised his head and glanced back up at the teen. He had expected her to be upset with him still, but her face only held confusion and disappointment. "Where've you been, Spike?"  
  
  
  
He paused for a second. "Africa."  
  
  
  
Dawn remained silent for a moment. "Oh." Then she turned from him, opened the back door, and got inside. "You ready to go?"  
  
  
  
As she closed the door, Spike smiled to himself at the miracle that was the Summers women. He got in the passenger's seat and they made their way home.  
  
  
  
Dawn's voice came from the backseat. "You two *do* realize you're gonna have to eventually tell me what's going on…"  
  
  
  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
  
  
  
As the car pulled into the driveway, Buffy noticed that the front door was open. **Guess Will's home, then.** The ex-witch had grudgingly agreed to return to her classes for the fall semester, as it was her senior year. But she hadn't been as involved in her studies as she used to be, and her grades had severely dropped in the past couple months. Buffy sighed, realizing that she'd have to explain Spike's presence. Luckily, Willow had never been fully informed as to why Spike left, since she wouldn't have cared anyway. The only person Buffy would have to worry about would be Xander…  
  
  
  
Spike shook Buffy's shoulder lightly. She became conscious of the fact that she was still in the driver's seat, wrapped up in her worries, while Spike stood outside her door and Dawn had already gone into the house.  
  
  
  
Spike looked concerned. "You okay, pet? You look upset."  
  
  
  
Buffy shook it off and smiled up at him. "I'm fine. Just kinda nervous about how the others are gonna take this."  
  
  
  
Spike blanched. "I'm kinda worried 'bout that myself. You sure they won't stake me…er, kill me… in some way or another? Just got my life back, don't plan on losin' it yet."  
  
  
  
Buffy opened the door as Spike stepped back, and grinned. "Hopefully, it won't come down to that. Anyway, you can probably still take Xander, even if you are a wussy human."  
  
  
  
Spike was indignant. "Hey, now! Never said I was wussy."  
  
  
  
"Fine, fine. Have it your way, tough man." Buffy smirked as they walked through the doorway. "Don't worry. I'll protect you…"  
  
  
  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
  
  
  
Willow despondently made her way down the stairs, shoulders sagging. Her eyes still had the ever-present bags under them, and were freshly red from the recent bout of crying. Though she never cried in front of her friends anymore, she still broke down the moment she was alone. She honestly didn't think the tears would ever end.  
  
  
  
Her head rose as she heard the giggling, as well as decidedly male chuckling, coming from the living room. **Xander didn't come over, did he?** she thought with a grimace. **I told him I wanted to be alone tonight…and every night…** After what felt like an eternity, Willow finally reached the bottom of the stairs and rounded the corner to go into the room where all the laughter was coming from.  
  
  
  
Dawn, Buffy, and Spike all raised their heads at Willow's arrival, their faces still red with mirth at Dawn's retelling of her and Xander's encounter with a Melash'kavot demon. Dawn's face immediately dropped, Buffy's slowly following her, while Spike averted his eyes to the floor.  
  
  
  
Willow stood there for a second, taking the scene in, then slowly turned around and headed back up the stairs to her room.  
  
  
  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
  
  
  
Spike looked over to Buffy with a frown. "This how she's been all summer?"  
  
  
  
Buffy's eyes fell to the floor. "Actually, this is one of her better days. She's been worse…much worse. At least she got out of bed. That's an improvement…"  
  
  
  
Spike shook his head remorsefully. "Red's worse off than I thought. Hate to see her go through that. I know what it feels like to lose the person you love with your entire being." He gave Buffy a meaningful glance before dropping his gaze. "Makes you wanna tear your heart out, just to end the pain…"  
  
  
  
As Buffy and Spike continued their inspection of the carpeting, Dawn looked between them and sighed. "I'm gonna go grab a turkey-baloney-mayonnaise- and-pickle sandwich. Anyone want?"  
  
  
  
Both adults looked thoroughly sickened, and the teen gave a grin as she rose. "Thought not. Be right back."  
  
  
  
Once again alone, neither Buffy nor Spike knew what to say. It had all pretty much been said already, the Slayer figured. She still had so many questions she wanted to ask, but didn't want to overwhelm him on his first day back home. **Home…I wonder when this became his home…**  
  
  
  
Buffy looked over at Spike, who was currently sitting on the opposite side of the couch with his eyes closed in exhaustion. He looked so…normal. He had a pulse, he had a heartbeat, and he actually was *required* to breathe, not just doing it out of habit. But he was still just…Spike. He really hadn't changed. He was lying back on the couch, limbs splayed everywhere, acting just like he had before he got a soul and was humanized. **Why is he still the same?** Buffy wondered. **Shouldn't he be wallowing in guilt over all the murders he's committed in the past hundred-twentysome years? Shouldn't his remorse be palpable, like it was with Angel?** With a gasp, it hit Buffy why she was so confused. He was *completely* the same, unlike Angel had been when he reverted to Angelus. But before she was able to ponder this any further, Spike interrupted her train of thought.  
  
  
  
"You just gonna stare at me all day, luv? Or you got somethin' on your mind?" He asked, without opening an eye.  
  
  
  
Buffy sat up a bit straighter, ashamed at being caught in her perusal of him. "I was just thinking."  
  
  
  
Spike opened one eye to look at her. "'Bout what?"  
  
  
  
"You," Buffy replied quietly, causing him to open his other eye in surprise. "How you're *exactly* the same as before, except with a consistent temperature." She looked at him in amazement. "How *is* that, Spike? Why haven't you changed?"  
  
  
  
Spike looked at her, somewhat upset by her question. "Did you want me to?"  
  
  
  
Buffy stared at the cushion between them. "I…I don't know…no. No, I didn't want you to change, Spike." She sighed. "It's just…it confuses me, that's all. When Angel…you know…"  
  
  
  
Spike smirked grimly and sat forward. "Ahhh…so that's it. You thought me bein' all soul-having again would turn me into the Great and Shiny Pouf." He rose from the couch with a scowl on his face and looked down at her. "Sorry, luv. Doesn't work like that. I'm not Peaches." And with that, he stalked into the kitchen, leaving Buffy by herself.  
  
  
  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
  
  
  
Dawn sat at the kitchen counter, white mayonnaise smeared over her upper lip, as Spike walked into the room. "Hey. Having second thoughts on that sandwich?"  
  
  
  
Spike looked at her and grimaced. "Thankfully, no."  
  
  
  
Dawn noticed the miserable look on his face, and immediately knew it had to do with Buffy. "What'd you do now?"  
  
  
  
He looked up at her, confused. "What?"  
  
  
  
"What'd you do now to make Buffy mad at you? It looks like you two just had a spat," Dawn answered as she finished the last pickle chip on her plate.  
  
  
  
Spike let out a harsh laugh. "Wasn't me this time. Other way around, actually."  
  
  
  
The girl smirked. "Oh, so Buffy did something to piss *you* off? Wow, *that's* never happened before…" She smiled at her own sarcasm.  
  
  
  
The blonde looked down at her sharply. "Hey, now. Watch the language."  
  
  
  
Dawn laughed as she rinsed off her plate. "God, you two *are* made for each other."  
  
  
  
Spike looked down at the counter sullenly and plopped onto one of the stools. "Yeah, try tellin' that to Big Sis…"  
  
  
  
Said sis then slowly walked through the kitchen doorway. She tried to catch Spike's eye, but he refused to look at her. Sighing in defeat, Buffy sat on the stool next to him. "I just called Giles, Xander, and Anya. We're gonna have a Scooby meeting in an hour at the Magic Box, to discuss…well, you know…you." She got up off the stool and headed out of the room, placing a comforting hand on his back and speaking softly. "Be ready in twenty, 'kay?" With an apologetic smile, she walked out of the kitchen.  
  
  
  
After she left the room, Spike let out a weary groan and placed his head in both hands on the counter. **Love's Bitch, indeed…**  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Hmmmm…well, okay. Still no plot really. But, hey, I actually got two of the Scoobs in there! That's gotta count for something, right? Right? Okay, okay. Next chapter, I *promise*, I'll finally get into the real story. It's just that my darn fingers keep typing away, and I can't stop! Next chapter, though, I'll definitely move the story along. And we'll see Giles! Yay!!! Ahem…anywho, if you like, review. If you don't like, still review. Heck, just type a row of vowels and consonants, in no particular order, and I'll be happy! 


	6. Revelations

CHAPTER SIX ~ Revelations  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Spike stood outside the door to the Magic Box, one hand on the doorknob, while Buffy and Dawn waited behind him. He let in one deep breath, sighed loudly, then turned back to the two impatient women. "I can't do it."  
  
  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes and pushed past him, intent on opening the front door. Spike grabbed her arm. "Don't!"  
  
  
  
"God, Spike. What's your deal? You've been in the Magic Box before, and facing a pissed Giles or Xander has never really been a problem for you." Buffy looked on as Spike let out another weary sigh and leaned back on the wall next to the entrance.  
  
  
  
"Because, pet, being human means there's a lot more ways they can kill me now. It's not just limited to fire and sharp pieces of wood anymore." Spike was *dying* for a smoke at the moment. Even if he did hack up a lung, it'd be worth it for a few moments of peace.  
  
  
  
Dawn had to smile. "You, the former Big Bad, are afraid of *Xander*?"  
  
  
  
Spike looked indignant. "Course I'm not afraid of that ponce. I'm just saying, it's a lot easier for me to die now, and having just been returned to the living, I don't exactly want to leave quite yet."  
  
  
  
Buffy nodded to Dawn, and they each grabbed one of the ex-vamp's arms, pulling him off the side of the building.  
  
  
  
Spike was startled. "Hey! What are you…"  
  
  
  
"Spike, just relax." Buffy took his hand in hers while Dawn stepped back a bit. "Look, I won't let them do anything to you, 'kay?"  
  
  
  
He ripped his hand violently from hers and paced back to the door. "I don't need your protection, Slayer. I can handle myself just fine." And with that he opened the door, and let the ladies lead the way.  
  
  
  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
  
  
  
Giles was the first to look up from his spot at the round table, which was already piled up with quite a collection of books. Anya was next, in her usual position at the cash register. Finally, Xander glanced towards the door, and all of them were stunned to see the shockingly blonde man walk in behind the two females.  
  
  
  
"Buffy…" Giles looked decidedly concerned, and not for the first time, he cursed not having his glasses to wipe nervously.  
  
  
  
"Hi, Giles," Buffy replied quietly. "Um, look who's home."  
  
  
  
Anya glanced over to Spike, but remained silent and went back to her tallying without a word. Xander glared at him, but also kept quiet, and Spike was beginning to get worried by all the not-talking going on.  
  
  
  
"Allo, all." Spike tried to come out sounding like his confident, cocky self, but it didn't work. He sounded just as desperate as he felt.  
  
  
  
Giles stood up and walked over to stand in front of him. "Spike. You're back." Though he sounded rather intimidating, Spike could detect a hint of welcome behind his words.  
  
  
  
"Could say the same for you, Rupert."  
  
  
  
Giles let out a tiny grin. "Yes, I assume you could."  
  
  
  
Spike smiled in return. "So, how was the Mother Country? Just as dull and dreary as ever, I 'spose."  
  
Giles was beginning to reply when Spike was suddenly slammed into the side of the table. "What the hell are you doing back, Dead Boy?"  
  
  
  
"Xander! Stop it!" Dawn cried out.  
  
  
  
Xander pinned Spike on top of the table and sneered down at him. "I thought you finally got a clue and left. Finally realized no one wanted you here."  
  
  
  
Spike smirked. "Miss me, Harris?"  
  
  
  
Xander tightened his grip on the blonde's neck and smirked back. "Not really, no. You shoulda stayed gone, Spike…"  
  
  
  
Having enough with the testosterone show she held a front seat to, Buffy gently placed a hand on Xander's shoulder and pulled him back. "Xander, don't. Not right now…actually, never. Just leave it go, okay?"  
  
  
  
"But Buffy, he…"  
  
  
  
"Stop, Xander. Just stop. There are more important things to deal with right now." She turned to face Giles. "Such as what's happened to Spike."  
  
  
  
Giles suddenly looked very interested. "And what has happened to Spike, exactly?"  
  
  
  
The ex-vampire stood up from the table, then focused his gaze on the floor. "I'm not exactly of the undead persuasion anymore, mate."  
  
  
  
Giles was confused. He turned to Buffy. "What does he mean by that?"  
  
  
  
Spike let out an exasperated sigh and looked him in the eyes. "I'm not dead, you pillock. I'm alive."  
  
  
  
"Oh…" Giles muttered. He sat down at the table and rubbed his eyes wearily. "…dear."  
  
  
  
Dawn walked up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Kinda a lot to take in, huh? Took me awhile to get used to it, too."  
  
  
  
"Yes, right." Giles continued rubbing at his eyes, then looked back down to the table. "Well, at least I already have my books out…"  
  
  
  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
  
  
  
Giles, pen and notebook in hand, tried to catch the attention of the man pacing somewhat apprehensively in front of him, "Right, then. Let me see if I understand this quite correctly. You went to visit an evil…*lurking*…demon, somewhere in Africa…"  
  
  
  
Spike stopped his pacing and faced the Watcher. "Uganda, to be exact. It's one of the ones in the middle."  
  
  
  
Giles grinned and looked up. "Yes, thank you. I actually already knew that." He glanced back down to his notes. "In any case, you visited this demon, and he returned you to the living after you completed some…trials? Is that correct?"  
  
  
  
Spike flipped absentmindedly through the pages of some ancient text. "That'd be correct."  
  
  
  
Giles went back to his notebook. "And this demon…he just restored your soul to you out of the…how did you put it…the *evilness* of his heart?"  
  
  
  
Spike never stopped his idle page turning, but was beginning to look unquestionably flustered. "Um, not exactly, mate."  
  
  
  
Giles looked up to him once more, his interest renewed. "So why, precisely, *did* he return your soul and make you human?"  
  
  
  
All eyes turned to Spike, except for Buffy's, which remained steadfast on the counter where she sat. The former vampire looked down at the pages in front of him and mumbled, "I wanted to give Buffy what she deserved."  
  
  
  
Giles stared at him in puzzlement. "Can you repeat that, please? I…I'm not quite sure I heard you correctly."  
  
  
  
Spike finally looked him in the eye and said clearly, "He said I could have anything I wanted if I completed the trials, and I wanted to give Buffy what she deserved." He took a deep breath, raised his head, and finished confidently, "I told Lurky that I wanted to be able to give her what she needed, and to be what she deserved. And look…he made it happen."  
  
  
  
Giles once again pinched his nose, while Xander flew out of his seat. "Okay, that right there's about all I can take! I can deal with the Evil Undead over there becoming Soul Boy Jr. Heck, I can even deal with him being all warm and pulse having. But I'm drawing the line at letting that *monster* even suggest that he's what Buffy deserves!" He looked at Spike in pure disgust. "God, you'll *never* be what she deserves. You'll never be more than a thing to her, no matter what kinda mojo some evil demon pulls on you."  
  
  
  
Buffy jumped down from the counter and pushed Xander back in his chair. "Okay, stop with the rant." She glared down at him. "Xander, when did you become my guardian? Who gave you the right to tell me what I do and don't do with my life? Or how I can or cannot feel about someone?"  
  
  
  
Xander looked up at her incredulously. "Buff, he…"  
  
  
  
"Really don't want to hear it right now. And believe me, I *have* thought things through. Look, I'm not saying I'm with, or going to be with, Spike. And I'm not saying that I won't. I'm just saying that it's *not* your choice, no matter how much you want to protect me." She sighed and took a seat next to him and took his hand. "I love you, Xand. And I know that you're just trying to look out for me. But I *am* a big girl now. I really can take care of myself. So I don't want to deal with this petty crap, okay? You can sit here and help us try to find out what's going on, or you can leave. Either way, I don't want to hear another word about this."  
  
  
  
And without a word, Xander got up from his seat and left the Magic Box.  
  
  
  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
  
  
  
Anya walked to the front door and flipped the sign hanging outside from *OPEN* to *CLOSED*. "I'm heading home now, Giles. Do you still have the key to lock up the shop?"  
  
  
  
Giles looked up at her distractedly from one of his tomes. "What was that? I'm sorry, this text is rather involved."  
  
  
  
Anya sighed and walked to stand in front of him. "I asked if you still had your key to lock up the store. Reading all these small words is making my head hurt, and I don't like to be in pain. So I'm going home now, and you can make sure that the Magic Box is locked up before you leave, alright?"  
  
  
  
The ex-librarian smiled back up at her. "Of course, Anya. I trust I'll see you tomorrow morning, then?"  
  
  
  
She turned around and replied as she left, "You'd better be here bright and early, if you plan on getting paid…"  
  
  
  
With the smile still on his face, Giles went back to his book. He, Buffy, Dawn, and Spike had all been sitting around the table, scouring through his collection of ancient prophecies and demon lore to find anything with the slightest relevancy to resurrecting vampires to their human forms or demons that returned souls. "I still believe that there is more to this than just your Cave Demon, Spike. I'm sure we'll find an explanation somewhere in here…somewhere."  
  
  
  
Spike grinned sardonically at the older man. "Right, 'cause your dusty books have been so much help to us before, haven't they?"  
  
  
  
The Watcher gave the blonde a small scowl, then turned back to the tome. He suddenly noticed a small passage just as he was about to move onto the next volume. "Oh…wait. I think I may have found something…"  
  
  
  
Spike shot out of his seat and stood looking over the Watcher's shoulder. "What do you got?"  
  
  
  
"Well, it...it seems there is a certain demon, a Mohra, that's blood has certain regenerative properties. When it is mixed with the blood of an undead being, such as a vampire, said being is restored to life." He turned to look up at the former vamp. "That could explain your sudden humanity, though it wouldn't exactly help us on the issue of your resouling. Maybe fighting one of these was a part of your trials?"  
  
  
  
"Nope. Sorry mate." Spike shook his head, continuing to look over Giles' shoulder at another text beside the one he had just read from. "Didn't come to blows with any Mohras. I'd remember taking one of those on." He reached over Giles and picked up the book he was concentrating on. "Hey, now. Think I might've found something…"  
  
  
  
Buffy got up from her chair to stand next to him. "What'd you get?"  
  
  
  
"Spike, I just studied that manuscript. It didn't have anything useful to us." Giles once again pinched the bridge of his nose, the night's research beginning to wear him out.  
  
  
  
The younger man was engrossed in the text. Finally, he turned to the Watcher and pointed out a passage. "Here, read this."  
  
  
  
Giles took the book from his hand and began to read out loud:  
  
  
  
"Borne from Darkness, Resurrected by Light  
  
Two as One  
  
The Man and the Woman  
  
Warriors both  
  
With Strengths and Weaknesses Equal  
  
Battling in Darkness, Living in Light  
  
Shall meet in Shadow to face the Final Evil  
  
Then rise from the Last Battle victorious  
  
Forevermore known as The Chosen Two  
  
So shall it be until End of Days"  
  
Giles paused for a moment, then set the book back on the table with a loud *thump*. "Dear lord…"  
  
  
  
Buffy looked understandably confused. "Huh?"  
  
  
  
Dawn sat up a bit straighter and looked at her mentor. "Giles? Is it really bad? Like dire, end-of-the-world bad?"  
  
  
  
Giles seemed to come out of his daze for a moment. "Oh…no. Well, perhaps…just a moment, please." He began rereading the prophecy to himself.  
  
  
  
Spike began to get agitated. "Look, I consider myself an intelligent man. But I'm gonna have to go with the Slayer on this one. What does it mean?"  
  
  
  
The Watcher looked up to face him. "I would have thought you'd understand it's meaning. You *were* the one to point it out to me, weren't you?"  
  
  
  
"Well, yeah. But I just thought it looked interesting, a good read. So can you please decipher it and tell us what it actually *means*, now?"  
  
  
  
Giles pondered the text once more before turning to look at the ex-vampire. "This prophecy would seem to imply, Spike, that you are, in fact, the First Male Slayer, and that you and Buffy will have to face the final Apocalyptic battle together."  
  
  
  
Spike stared dumbly at him for a moment. "Huh?" 


	7. Equals

CHAPTER SEVEN ~ Equals  
  
  
  
  
  
Spike stood staring unblinkingly back at Giles, still trying to comprehend what the older man had just said. For a few moments, the entire shop was silent in their shock and stupor. Buffy was the first to snap out of it.  
  
  
  
"So…what you're saying is…Spike is a *male* Slayer? A…a testosterone- filled version of *me*?"  
  
  
  
Giles pondered this for a moment. "Um, well, uh yes…I…I suppose you could put it that way." He scanned the paragraphs surrounding the prophecy. "He presumably has… strength, uh, speed, and agility equal to your own. While no longer holding the weaknesses of vampirism, such as sunlight or crosses, at that. So, then, um… for all intents and purposes, I assume we could say that he is a male…you."  
  
  
  
Dawn gazed at the new Slayer in awe. "So cool…"  
  
  
  
Buffy stood dumbly for a moment, then turned to Spike and thwapped him soundly on the chest. "*Why* didn't you tell me you still had your superstrength?"  
  
  
  
Spike had to smirk back at the petite, glaring woman before him. "You never asked, pet."  
  
  
  
Buffy continued glaring up into his smug face. "But you were acting like a wuss, all worried about Xander and Giles murdering you…" The Watcher glanced up in amusement at the bickering duo.  
  
  
  
"*You* said I was a wuss, luv. Not me. I told you I could handle myself just fine."  
  
  
  
Buffy sighed in defeat and backed down. "Okay. I'll give that one to you," she grumbled.  
  
  
  
Spike sat back in his chair and put his feet up on the table with a satisfied grin. "Anyways, I didn't even know it *was* 'superstrength' 'til just now. Just thought I was bloody strong and fit for a human." He shrugged and picked up another book to inspect.  
  
  
  
The corners of Buffy's mouth twitched up in a wry smile. "Sorry, Spikey. Having abs of steel doesn't give you super-hero power."  
  
  
  
Spike grinned back at her. "Abs of Steel, pet? Thanks for the veiled compliment, there."  
  
  
  
Giles rolled his eyes and sighed, studiously trying to ignore the blatant flirting going on between the two Slayers. With a sudden thought, he sprung up from the table, ancient prophecy in hand, and headed towards the phone. "I just had a notion... Seeing as my resources are rather limited here, maybe it would be in our best interest to…um…to ring the Council and see if they can assist at all in this matter."  
  
  
  
Buffy looked at him pointedly. "Giles, are you sure we'd be able to trust them? I mean, they don't exactly have the best track record with us so far. What if they want to just prod and poke him, like the Initiative?" Spike appeared horrified at this prospect.  
  
  
  
"Well, that's certainly an understandable concern. But they do have much more information available to them than we could possibly obtain. And if this prophecy is true and Spike, in fact, will help you to avert the final apocalypse, I'm sure that getting to the heart of this matter will be in their greatest interest as well." Giles picked up the phone and began dialing. "I'll call them right now. You three go through as many texts as you can and see if you're able to find any more pertinent information."  
  
  
  
As soon as Giles left the room, the two Slayers and the Key threw their books down on the table and stopped pretending to actually read from them. Dawn looked at Spike in admiration. "So…first Male Slayer, huh? That's gotta make you feel pretty special." Spike just grinned in reply as she continued excitedly, "Didya fight any big nasties in Africa? What was it like? How'd it feel to step into the sun for the first time in a century?"  
  
  
  
Spike looked down at the table for a moment, then decided to neglect to tell the girl about the Gem of Amarra incident at the moment. "Well, I fought some right ugly buggers in the cave, during those bloody trials. But after I got my humanity back…" He shrugged. "I haven't really fought anything big since. I took on a couple scaly, lizard-like things before leavin' the Dark Continent, but they weren't nothing too big. Which is why I didn't notice that I kept my strength."  
  
  
  
Buffy grinned wickedly as an idea came to her. She stood up slowly and made her way to the training room door. "So, Spike…" She turned back to face him, a somewhat coy smile on her face. "How 'bout testing that new Slayer strength out on a *real* challenge?"  
  
  
  
Spike rose from his seat and crossed the room to stand only a foot in front of her at the doorway. She stared into his eyes, and he saw something mischievous flash behind her own as she tilted her head slightly and whispered to him, "Feel like taking me on, William?"  
  
  
  
Spike smirked at her as she turned and headed through the doorway. "More than anything, luv," he said, following her eagerly. "More than anything."  
  
  
  
After a moment, Dawn finally got what they were talking about, and it wasn't sex like she had originally thought. She jumped out of her chair and raced to the training room. "Hey! Wait for me! I wanna watch!"  
  
  
  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
  
  
  
Giles cradled the phone on his shoulder as the nasally voice of the secretary came over the line. "Uh, yes…Hello. This is Rupert Giles, Watcher of Buffy Summers. I…I'm afraid I have a rather pressing matter on my hands at the moment, and I need to speak to Quentin Travers." He patiently listened to the woman's request, then sighed loudly in exasperation. "Lord…" he muttered. "No. I do not know the password. This is an urgent situation, madam. Would you please patch me through to Travers?"  
  
  
  
There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment, then a harsh male voice. "Quentin Travers speaking. How may I help you?"  
  
  
  
"Mr. Travers, this is Rupert Giles. I'm in need of some…"  
  
  
  
Travers laughed brusquely. "Mr. Giles…I didn't expect to hear from you so soon after our disagreeable conversation in July. And how is Ms. Rosenberg?"  
  
  
  
Giles scowled and spoke darkly into the receiver, "She's doing fine, no thanks to you lot. I still don't seem to understand why you couldn't take two minutes away from your precious thumb-twiddling to help rehabilitate a woman who holds more power than all of the Council's sorcerers combined and could quite possibly destroy the world with a flick of her wrist."  
  
  
  
"We had our reasons, Rupert. Just as you have yours. Besides, it was all in her best interest."  
  
  
  
"Yes, because she's recuperating so much better by sitting up in her room and crying to herself for hours on end."  
  
  
  
"It wouldn't have been very wise to take a powerful witch recovering from the Dark Arts and place her in an institution that houses the greatest collection of occult reference material in the world, now would it, Mr. Giles?"  
  
  
  
"You could have done *something*, you arrogant little…" Giles began angrily, then rubbed the space between his eyes furiously and tried to compose himself. "Look, we both are aware of the fact that you dislike me and my methods, Travers. And I bloody well hate you. But I'm not calling you to discuss this matter once again, though I believe we still do need to discuss it. There's something much more important at hand."  
  
  
  
Giles could *hear* Travers' frown through the phone. "Do tell."  
  
  
  
"Our vampire ally, Spike, has recently returned from his trip to Africa somewhat differently than how he left."  
  
  
  
"And how is that?"  
  
  
  
"Human."  
  
  
  
After a moment, Travers sputtered over the phone. "But…but…that's not possible… The only prophecy that calls for a vampire to become human is the Shanshu, and that's destined for Angelus alone."  
  
  
  
"This appears to be different than that." Giles picked up the book sitting next to him. "I found a text containing a prophecy which I think concerns this in my personal library. It seems to say that Spike has become human, yet kept his vampiric strengths and abilities, while losing his weaknesses. That would essentially make him…"  
  
  
  
"The First Male Slayer…" Quentin quietly finished for him. There was dead silence for nearly a minute before Travers continued gruffly, "Where did you find this prophecy?"  
  
  
  
"Um…just a moment…" Giles closed the book to look at the title. "It's called 'The Prophecies of Kalhalazahn. Are you familiar with it?"  
  
  
  
More silence for a moment on Travers' end. "Yes. I know of it." Another pause. "In fact, another copy happens to be sitting in front of me now. And I just got through reading that prophecy."  
  
  
  
"Wait a minute…I thought you just said there was only one prophecy about…"  
  
  
  
"No matter, what I just said Mr. Giles," Travers interrupted. "It's of the utmost importance that we get to the bottom of this situation as soon as possible."  
  
  
  
"Yes, well that's why I was calling. The Council has many more resources and prophetic volumes than I myself am privy to. It would be very helpful if you could perhaps send some of…"  
  
  
  
Mr. Travers once again interrupted the ex-librarian. "I, as well as two of my associates, shall be there within the next couple of days. Make sure you ready any information that's available to you, and I'll bring everything I can."  
  
  
  
Giles started, "No, that's really not…" The dial tone sounded from the other end. "…necessary." Sighing and rubbing his eyes once more, he made his way back into the main room.  
  
  
  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
  
  
  
Giles had gone halfway into the main shop before he noticed that his three charges were missing and heard the various *oofs* and *ahhs* coming from the training room. Following the sound, the Watcher walked to the door, which had been left open a crack, and made his way inside.  
  
  
  
He crept silently to Dawn's side, keeping to the side of the room to avoid any stray kicks or punches that came his way. The teen watched them in awe, studying every block, punch, and feint with the greatest interest. Without taking her eyes off of them, she spoke to her mentor. "Aren't they amazing, Giles? Watching them move is like…it's sorta like reading poetry, you know? It kinda doesn't make sense while you're reading it, and it takes you awhile to really understand it, but it sounds so beautiful…" She suddenly turned to look him in the eyes. "They really are equals, aren't they?"  
  
  
  
Giles glanced at the girl before him with admiration and pride, then turned back to the sparring Slayers. "I believe they truly are, Dawn."  
  
  
  
The pair continued to study the fighters for a few more minutes. Eventually, Giles turned back to her. "I think perhaps we should return to the shop and continue our research…"  
  
  
  
Dawn took one final look at her sister and her friend, both now connected by a bond that transcended any bond before it. "Yeah…guess we should." They left the room side by side, and as Dawn closed the door, she called over her shoulder to him. "I don't have to actually *read*, do I?"  
  
  
  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
  
  
  
Buffy dealt two rapid-fire roundhouse kicks to her partner's stomach and chest. As he grabbed his side and growled in pain, she sent another to his face, and the force knocked him to the floor. Leaning against the wall for support, Spike clutched his jaw where her foot had made contact and smirked at the small woman. "Nice kick, luv. Getting stronger, are we?"  
  
  
  
Buffy shrugged and glanced down at his beaten body, which was only slightly more bruised than her own. Panting loudly, she wiped the droplets of perspiration that had collected on her forehead and underneath her eyes. "I've been working out."  
  
  
  
The platinum blonde's hair was completely mussed and sweat beads formed a path down his lean, naked chest. He looked her up and down thoroughly, slowly taking in every inch of her flushed, sweaty, exposed skin and gave her the sexiest grin he possessed. "I can tell."  
  
  
  
A red-hot blush covered her entire body and her knees became weak as she watched his silent perusal. Buffy decided to turn her embarrassment and undeniable arousal into a fierce desire to take down the panting, smirking, sexier-than-hell man before her…  
  
  
  
**One way or another…**  
  
  
  
While Buffy was busy thinking of all the ways she'd like to 'take him down', Spike took the opportunity to kick her legs out from underneath her. Before she could realize what was happening, he had straddled the small Slayer and held her hands to her side. "This Slayer strength and speed really comes in handy, doesn't it pet?" He asked, grinning down at her, a bead of sweat rolling down his nose.  
  
  
  
In response, Buffy swiftly kneed him in the groin and flipped him over her head. In less than a second she was on top of him, straddling his hips in a position that mirrored exactly the one Spike had been in only moments before. She pinned his hands over his head and smirked down at him. "It *really* does."  
  
  
  
After a second, Buffy actually realized the position they were in. All of a sudden, the air charged between them, became electric, and the arousal in the room was palpable to both. The small blonde slowly leaned forward, letting her torso rest on Spike's chest, while her hands remained resting on his wrists above their heads. She gazed down at his face and found a pair of hungry, ice blue, lust-filled orbs staring back at her with an intensity that could only have rivaled her own. Once again, the air became even thicker with their desire and Buffy could swear she saw sparks flit between their eyes. Of it's own accord, her mouth slowly began to descend, intent on reclaiming his soft, pink lips for the first time in almost a year…  
  
  
  
"Hey, Buffy…" Dawn's muffled voice, coupled with a sharp knock, sounded out from the other side of the door, effectively breaking the mood and ripping the two Slayers out of the world they had created for themselves. "Are you guys done fighting yet? Can I come in now?"  
  
  
  
Buffy promptly jumped off the confused ex-vampire faster than was humanly possible and got as far away from him as she could in the confined area. "Yes…done fighting…*Definitely* done fighting…" She had begun pacing the room while the blonde man, with a sigh of disappointment, picked himself up off the floor.  
  
  
  
Dawn opened the door and quickly made her way into the room. "Good, 'cause Giles said we should head home now. It's almost twelve o'clock, and I kinda got school tomorrow…"  
  
  
  
Buffy's mouth dropped open in shock. "Oh my god…We've been in here for *four* hours?! Why didn't anyone come and get me?"  
  
  
  
Dawn grinned sheepishly. "We tried. I knocked on the door about five times, but you guys never answered. I guess you were caught up in the moment, or just really havin' fun, so I didn't want to bother you. I just kicked it with Giles and tried to help him find some more info."  
  
  
  
Buffy blushed bright red once again, while Spike just sat down on the pile of mats and smiled in amusement. "God…Dawnie, I'm *so* sorry. I really didn't mean to get carried away." She glanced at Spike, then looked back to her sister. "I just haven't had a real good fight for awhile. I didn't mean to keep it up that long."  
  
  
  
Dawn just smiled. "Don't worry, it's really no big. I'm just glad you guys were having a good time."  
  
  
  
Buffy looked down at the floor as she felt her face flush. "Yeah, great time…Um, shouldn't we be getting you home now? Being up this late *can't* help your grades, now can it?"  
  
  
  
The younger girl sighed. "Yeah, tell me about it. Keeping Slayer hours doesn't really help your academic life, huh?"  
  
  
  
Her older sister grinned and ran a hand through her soft brown hair. "Nope. Now you know why I never made it into the Honor Society…"  
  
  
  
Spike watched the two girls in complete awe, utterly amazed at how his love could go from the strong, sexual being she was only moments ago to this warm, caring woman in front of him. He didn't know that he was able to love her any more than he already did, but as his heart swelled, he found it was possible. Buffy's voice brought him out of his contemplation.  
  
  
  
"Spike, did you hear me?" Buffy asked as she and Dawn crossed to the doorway.  
  
  
  
"Uh…sorry luv, I missed it. What'd you say?" Spike tiredly rubbed a kink from the back of his neck and threw the long-sleeved black shirt over his head.  
  
  
  
"I asked where are you going tonight? Where'll you be staying?" She had her arm around her sister, and though Dawn was nearly a half-foot taller than the petite woman, the younger girl rested her head on the Slayer's shoulder.  
  
  
  
Spike thought this over as he followed her into the shop. "Well, if Rupert wouldn't mind, I could just bunk up here in the store. Or possibly back in the training room. Pile the mats up. It'd make a better bed than I've gotten used to sleeping on these past few months, anyway."  
  
  
  
Giles carried a stack of books from behind the counter to the table. "Yes, I'm sure Anya will appreciate finding you here in the shop tomorrow morning. She won't mind your using her store as a hotel, rent free, at all…"  
  
  
  
Spike looked puzzled. "Right. That does create a problem, doesn't it?"  
  
  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes and sighed loudly. "Fine. Fine. You can spend the next couple nights at my house." Spike looked at her hopefully. "*Only* the next few nights. Just until you find another place to stay, alright?"  
  
  
  
The male Slayer tried not to let the disappointment show on his face. "Thanks, luv. Right kind of you."  
  
  
  
Buffy nodded, then led her sister to the front door. "Uh-huh. You just remember that when you're telling me how bitchy I am."  
  
  
  
Spike smirked and followed her out the door. "Sure, pet. Promise."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
TBC…  
  
  
  
  
  
Remember, reviews are always welcome! : ) 


	8. Fate, Also Known As Destiny

CHAPTER EIGHT ~ Fate, Also Known As Destiny  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The front door creaked as Buffy pushed it open with one hand, the other being full of Dawn. The semi-sleeping girl snored loudly as she rubbed her nose on Buffy's shoulder, and Spike grinned at the cute picture the two girls made.  
  
  
Once all three were inside, Buffy turned to him and whispered, "You can sit down here for a few minutes while I go get her up into her room. I don't think she'll be able to climb up the stairs by herself..."  
  
  
Dawn responded by snorting again and mumbled into her sister's jacket, "I can so..."  
  
  
Buffy smiled down at her, then turned back to Spike. "I'm gonna get a shower then I'll bring you down some sheets and you can make the couch up." As she began to climb the stairs, Dawn still attached to her side, she looked to him over her shoulder. "You might want to take one, too." Buffy grinned slyly. "You smell kinda ripe."  
  
  
Spike smirked and huffed in mock indignation, walking into the living room as the sister's went upstairs. The room was dark, the light from the moon throwing mysterious shadows onto the walls. Spike sat in the chair and picked up the remote, but then decided against turning on the telly. Exhausted, he leaned his head back and shut his eyes, letting sleep overtake him for the first time in days.  
  
  
A little while later, Buffy came down the stairs, wet hair hanging in her face and arms loaded with blankets and sheets. She stepped off the staircase and peered into the room where Spike sat lightly snoring, and froze.   
  
  
He looked so beautiful.   
  
  
She hadn't remembered how handsome he had been, a true creature of the night. The moonlight shone onto his face, reflecting off his platinum hair and giving his skin an ethereal glow that it had lost once he got the suntan. Stuck in her trance, she lost her grip on the blankets and a few of the sheets tumbled out of the Slayer's arms. As she bent over to pick them up, she knocked her head soundly on the side table in front her. With a loud groan, she started to pick up the linens.  
  
  
"You alright?" Spike asked groggily, startling Buffy and causing her to drop the sheets once again. "I thought I heard you hit into something."  
  
  
Buffy finished picking up the blankets and set them on the couch, then sat down herself. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'll just have a lumpy head come morning."  
  
  
Spike smiled and nodded to the stairs. "Guess the shower's free, then?"  
  
  
"Oh, yeah. All clear." Buffy looked him over as he stood from the chair and frowned at his sweat-stained shirt. "Um, did you happen to keep any of your old clothes? 'Cause I don't think you're gonna want to sleep in that."  
  
  
The ex-vampire looked down at the wet shirt and sighed. "Nope. Left everything with Clem at the crypt when I left, and some demon thugs came in and stole it all. Poor Clem couldn't protect the place by himself." He looked up at her and grinned. "Though he did manage to save his stash of Country Time."  
  
  
Buffy let out a small laugh then rose to stand next to him. "Why don't you go up to the bathroom and I'll try to find you some clothes to wear for tonight?"  
  
  
Spike looked at her skeptically. "You have men's clothing, in my size, just lying around your house? Because I'm not wearing anything that belonged to that Harris git. Once was bloody enough..."  
  
  
The small blonde rolled her eyes. "They're Riley's old clothes." She raised her hand to stop his oncoming protest. "He left them behind and they're all I've got. Take 'em or leave 'em and sleep naked." Before the leer could settle on his face, she sighed. "Forget I said that. Just take them."  
  
  
He smirked at Buffy before she turned around and he followed her up the stairs. When they got outside the bathroom door, she faced him once more. "Um... We haven't exactly had a man living in here for a while, so we probably don't have everything you need. But, uh, there's soap and shampoo in the shower, and deodorant in the cupboard. Oh, and an extra toothbrush, but it hasn't been used, so it's not gross. I just bought it in case we had a guest, or visitor, and they had bad breath or..."  
  
  
Spike grinned affectionately and placed a hand on her arm. "Luv, you're rambling."  
  
  
Buffy smiled sheepishly. "You noticed that, huh?" She rubbed a hand over her face. "I...I just had a *really* long, long day, and I'm tired, and it doesn't help much that I still have the confusing issue of you." She took her hand off of her eyes and looked back up at him. "I'm sorry. I just... Let me go get those clothes for you. Wait 'til I bring them in here so you can have something clean to change into, okay?"  
  
  
Spike nodded. "Right, then."   
  
  
She turned into her bedroom and he went into the bathroom. Closing the door softly behind him, he walked over to stand in front of the mirror and stared curiously at his reflection for a long moment. Finally, he shook his head and looked down at the sink. "Nope, never gonna get used to it."  
  
  
He turned the 'cold' handle and watched the water pour from the spout. Slowly, he cupped his hands beneath the stream and let the liquid flow over them, cooling and soothing. Spike lowered his face to the sink and splashed the water onto his flushed cheeks. This was all too much for him, though he'd never admit it. Sure, he tried to play it cool. Tried to keep up the infamous Big Bad act that would prove to everyone he was still the badass he was before he left...at least in theory. But even he had to accept that that wasn't who he was anymore. He wasn't an evil, soulless, undead master vampire who wanted to destroy the world. Well, actually, he never *really* wanted to destroy the world. But he *was* evil. And soulless. And undead. What was he now?  
  
  
Just a man.   
  
  
Alright, so maybe he was also the first Male Slayer, but all and all, he was just a man. Who happened to be in the house of the woman he loved with all his heart, waiting for her to bring him some nightclothes so he could shower and go to sleep. In her house. With her asleep in the room above him. Not fifty feet away...  
  
  
Spike sighed and vigorously splashed his face again. Turning off the faucet, he patted his face dry with the small towel hanging next to the sink and began pacing the bathroom floor. Unbidden, thoughts and memories sprung to mind...  
  
  
  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
  
  
  
*** "We have to talk." ***  
  
  
*** "You spoke, I listened. Now leave." ***  
  
  
*** "I'm sorry. Not that it mattered anymore. But I needed you to know that." ***  
  
  
*** " *I* wanted something...anything to make these feelings stop. I just wanted it to stop!" ***  
  
  
*** "You should've let him kill me." ***  
  
  
*** "I could never *trust* you enough for it to be love." ***  
  
  
*** "I know you feel like I do. You don't have to hide it anymore." ***  
  
  
*** "Let yourself feel it." ***  
  
  
*** "Spike, stop!" ***  
  
  
*** The rip of the shower curtain. ***  
  
  
*** The crack of her ribs. ***  
  
  
*** "Let it go. Let yourself love me." ***  
  
  
*** "Spike, no...ow, I'm hurt!" ***  
  
  
*** "I know you felt it...when I was inside you. You'll feel it again, Buffy." ***  
  
  
*** "I'm gonna *make* you feel it!" ***  
  
  
*** The pain of her foot kicking him in the chest. ***  
  
  
*** The crash of his body hitting the sink. ***  
  
  
*** "Ask me again why I could never love you!" ***  
  
  
  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~   
  
  
  
  
The pounding on the bathroom door finally shook Spike out of his horrific reverie. He became aware of the fact that he was curled up in the corner of the room, arms wrapped around his knees, though he had no recollection of how he had gotten there. All he could remember was the overwhelming guilt that had engulfed him, without warning.   
  
  
**Thought the hard part was over... Guess I was bloody wrong. **  
  
  
All it took was the room. Just being in this room brought in a flood of memories of the horrible atrocity he had committed here so long ago, the worst act he had ever committed in all of his blood-filled years, in his mind. He had worked so hard to get past this. To be able to think about that night without being reduced to a sobbing heap. And sure, the soul was more of a hindrance than help in this respect, but he had thought he worked past that. He thought he was beginning to forgive himself.  
  
  
**Bloody wrong, indeed. **  
  
  
"Spike, what's wrong? Why's the door locked?" Buffy's muffled, and apparently worried voice, came through the wood door. When had he locked the door? **Another one of life's great mysteries, ** he thought.  
  
  
He crawled out of the corner, turned the spigot on, and splashed his face with water to remove the tear tracks.   
  
  
"Spike, answer me!" Buffy was beginning to sound very concerned. He supposed he should respond in some way, to ease her anxiety. But the words wouldn't come out of his mouth. Instead, he walked over to the door and opened it just as she was about to use some Slayer force to knock the door down.  
  
  
She stared at him for a second before she spoke. "Why didn't you answer me? I thought maybe you slipped and fell, or something. Because unconscious people don't usually respond to worried pleas, either."  
  
  
He sniffed quickly, trying to force the tears to stay down, and prayed to the god he didn't really believe in that she wouldn't notice. She did.  
  
  
"It was nothing. Just, um, washing up a bit, over at the sink. Water running and all...must've not heard you."  
  
  
Once again, Buffy just stared at him. She didn't believe him. He knew she didn't believe him. But neither of them wanted to talk about what they both knew had actually happened.  
  
  
She shifted nervously, then slowly pushed past him into the room. When he finally turned around, she had already set the clothing that she had held in a pile on the sink and was turning the faucet on in the tub, studiously making sure that the water was the perfect temperature. **How thoughtful.** He didn't really mind her avoiding the subject, because he was perfectly happy to forget it ever happened, too. He just hoped she didn't actually *hear* him sobbing.  
  
  
She looked up at him from her spot on the floor, and he couldn't find a trace of derision. Apparently, she didn't hear his uncontrollable weeping. Or she was just too good of a person to comment on it. Either way worked for him.  
  
  
"So, um...there are your clothes. Like I said, they're not the best, but they're all I have." She glanced down at the floor, and he could tell she was just as uncomfortable as he was. "There are a couple of long-sleeved tees in there, and, um, a pair of flannel pants. And yeah, I know. You don't wear flannel. But you're just gonna have to make due, alright? I have an old pair of Riley's jeans, too, so you can wear them when we go to get you some more clothes tomorrow."  
  
  
After a long moment of silence, he began to head over to the sink to inspect the garments. Before he reached his destination, however, she spoke up once more. "There's, uh...something else over there, too."  
  
  
He got to the sink and picked up the clothing. Two gray, ribbed, long-sleeved tee shirts that still reeked of Soldier Boy. She mustn't have ever washed them. A pair of tacky green and blue plaid pajama bottoms. He didn't even want to think of himself wearing those. And one...black leather duster.  
  
  
*His* black leather duster.  
  
  
In perfect condition, too. He thought it'd have some burn marks, at least, or some tire tracks from her running it over repeatedly with their SUV.  
  
  
He looked over at her in wonder. "I know you said you kept it, but...why?"  
  
  
She shrugged. "Because...I don't know, really. I guess because, it's just...you. And I knew you'd come back, eventually. I wanted to be able to give it back to you."  
  
  
Spike scowled at the coat. "I don't want it."  
  
  
Buffy frowned. "What? Why not?"  
  
  
The ex-vampire sighed and leaned against the sink. "Because it's *not* me. Not anymore." He turned to stare into her eyes. "I got that off of a dead woman, Buffy. The second Slayer that I killed. It doesn't represent me anymore, because that isn't who I want to be now. I want to be something better than that."  
  
  
Buffy returned his gaze. "You *are* something better than that. And you have been for a long while, even before Africa. I just wouldn't let myself see it." She paused for a moment, but continued before he could protest. "Please, take it Spike. *Make* it represent something new...something better."  
  
  
Spike was once again silent for a moment, staring at the duster. Finally, he nodded, accepting her gift of forgiveness and her acknowledgement that he could change. Could be a man, not the monster who had won this prize.  
  
  
She rose from her spot next to the tub and made her way to the door. As she turned the handle and began to head out, Buffy looked back at him. "It is you, Spike. And it always will be you. But that doesn't have to be a bad thing." She turned away again and went to shut the door. "I'll be waiting downstairs."  
  
  
The door shut with a **click**. Spike adjusted the water temperature, turned the shower nozzle on, and took his clothes off. He stepped into the scalding hot stream and let it wipe away his pain. Maybe it would take all the scar tissue along with it.  
  
  
  
  
* * * * *  
  
  
  
  
Buffy quietly opened the back door and walked out into the cool night air. The sky was particularly clear tonight, and the stars were so bright she could see almost as clearly as if it were day. She hugged herself tightly, the small tank top she wore not keeping her very warm, and sighed wearily. She walked the few paces it took to reach the steps and sat down on the porch with a thump. Lazily, she looked around the backyard, not really observing as much as blankly staring, before her eyes returned to the stars that shone above her. Time to mope.  
  
  
Buffy, by nature, wasn't a brooder. Sure, she wallowed in her share of the self-pity pool every once in awhile, but she didn't like to focus on the bad things of life any longer than was actually necessary. The only exception to that being her most recent resurrection, but even then she wasn't really brooding. More like avoiding.  
  
  
But right now, at this moment, Buffy was in full-on brood mode. The incident in the bathroom hadn't escaped her notice. Hardly. But she knew Spike wouldn't be pleased if he found out that she had heard his choking sobs earlier. So she didn't mention it. But she did know what his cries had meant, because they had reminded her of her own.  
  
  
It took a long time before Buffy was able to comfortably walk into that bathroom after the...incident. Even longer before she could walk in without even thinking about it. But eventually, it happened. **So it'll happen for Spike, too... Eventually. **  
  
  
Sighing in exhaustion once more, the Slayer rested her back on the porch floor and just stared at the stars. She tried not to think, but she couldn't escape the troubles that were bothering her. Before she could fall even deeper into her brood mode, the back door creaked open.  
  
  
"Buffy, luv? What're you doin' out here? Thought you said you'd be downstairs."  
  
  
Without even turning to face him, Buffy replied, "I am downstairs. Just downstairs and outside."  
  
  
"So...what are you doing outside? I don't exactly see any big nasties that need immediate killing, and it's a bit warmer inside..." He nodded to the house, then noticed she wasn't even paying attention to him. Without a word, he sat on the porch and laid down beside her.  
  
  
"Spike?"  
  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
  
"Do you believe in Fate?"  
  
  
Spike shifted to face her, propping his head up with his hand. "What do you mean, pet?"  
  
  
Buffy responded, still not looking at him. "Fate? You know, a higher power controlling our every decision, every moment of our lives?"  
  
  
He laid back down on the porch and used both arms to cushion his head. After a moment of staring at the stars, he answered. "I don't know. Don't like to think that something's controlling me, that I don't get a choice. But in the end, I figure nobody knows." He gave her a sideways glance. "Guess you being a Slayer could prove it exists, right? I mean, I'm thinkin' you didn't actively campaign to become the next teenage girl to fight the evil and die young."  
  
  
Buffy let out a bitter laugh, causing Spike to frown. "Hardly. God, when I first found out I was the Slayer...well, I did what I always seem to do when faced with something I don't like." She turned her head to look at him for the first time. " I went into *deep* denial."  
  
  
Spike returned her gaze and chuckled. "Bad habit, that. Know of it myself."  
  
  
She grinned, then looked back at the stars. "Yeah, but it was more than just denial. I fought it with everything I was. Hell, I even fought it again when I first moved here from L.A. I wouldn't accept it. I couldn't face my destiny. That I was only born to live a couple decades, *if* I was lucky, battle some major evil, ranging from super-old vampires to a hell-god to my best friend, then die just for some other poor girl to take my place. I guess I couldn't fight Fate though, could I? I mean, look at me...I'm here, still the Slayer."  
  
  
Spike frowned again and stared at her forlorn face. "That's right. You are here. You're still the Slayer. And there isn't anything you can do about it. But just because that's your lot in life doesn't mean that's all you are. You're so much more than just the Slayer, Buffy." Spike sighed loudly and sat up straight on the porch steps, looking out into the backyard. "I told you before, luv. You're *not* normal. You'll probably never get a chance to live the bloody white picket fence, two point five kids dream life. And I'd wager you'd be bored to tears if you ever did. That's just not who you are. You have to let that go, and you'll be happier when you do."  
  
  
"That's not what I'm holding onto, really. I'm past normal. Actually, I got over that awhile ago." Buffy took a second to sit up as well. "It's the fact that I *won't* let anything have power over me. I'm in charge of me. If there is something out there that controls us all, it just...it makes all the choices and sacrifices I've made seem...insignificant. I mean, it was gonna happen anyway, so I went through all of the drama for nothing." She stared blankly out into the night, and Spike could tell this wasn't the only thing troubling her. "I don't want to be controlled by something, Spike. I don't want my thoughts, and choices, and feelings, to not be real."  
  
  
"Buffy." She heard the heartfelt concern in his voice and turned to face him. "What's *really* wrong? I know there's something more to it than this. You seemed okay a while ago, when we were sparring. What brought on the sudden gloom and contemplation?"  
  
  
She laughed, but he couldn't tell if it was sincere or sardonic. "Yes, because I am She of the Consistent Emotions." Sardonic it is. "I was just...thinking."  
  
  
"I could see that. 'Bout what, though?"  
  
  
She was silent for a long moment. When he had finally decided that she hadn't heard him, she spoke in the softest voice possible, barely a whisper.   
  
  
"I should hate you."  
  
  
Okay. Not what he was expecting. "Yeah, you should. Any specific reason? Or maybe you shouldn't dignify that with a response."  
  
  
"No, see, that's the thing. There *isn't* any specific reason why I should. I mean, the...thing, yeah. But I've dealt with that. I mean on a fundamental level. You're a vampire...er, *were* a vampire. I'm a Slayer. It's kinda frowned upon for Slayers to get too friendly with their prey. Not that I was ever really friendly. But, I just *didn't*...hate you, that is. I don't think I ever did. I mean, a lot of the time I didn't harbor any fuzzy feelings towards you. But I never killed you either, even when I had the opportunity. And you never killed me, although I'm sure you truly wanted to."  
  
  
Spike tried to follow her, but he wasn't doing a good job of it. "No offense, luv, but do you have a point?"  
  
  
Buffy sighed and turned to look him in the eye. "What if Fate intervened? What if they stopped us from killing each other back then? What if they made us...made *you*...fall in love with me? What if it's been set up since the beginning of whenever that we were destined to be together, and we never really had a choice in any of it? What if it's all just Fate?"  
  
  
He stared at her for a moment and in the moonlight saw the shining of unshed tears in her eyes. He didn't know whether to comfort her or tell her the truth. Well, he always was one to say it like it was...  
  
  
"I don't care."  
  
  
Alright, not the response *she* was expecting. "You don't *care*? You mean, you don't have an opinion on it?"  
  
  
  
"No. I mean, I don't give a shit whether or not this was already preordained before either of us existed. I don't care about the why's, or the how's, or when's. All I care about is this..." He took her left hand in his right, caressing her palm with the pad of his thumb before turning to face her completely. "...I love you, Buffy. More than anything I've ever cared about in the history of my being. And whether I came up with this revelation all on my own, or some all-powerful Powers That Be planted the idea in my head...I don't care. Either way, I still love you just the same. And I always will."  
  
  
Buffy knew that the tears were pouring down her face, but she couldn't seem to care. "I can't hate you, Spike. I won't."  
  
  
He smiled softly. "Well, that's a relief."   
  
  
Before he could say another word, she was in his arms, hugging him like she was holding on to dear life. "I did care about you, Spike. I missed you *so* much. You'll never know how much I missed you."  
  
  
Spike was speechless. He was pretty much unable to make an intelligent thought at the moment, too. All he could think, over and over, was, ** She missed me. **  
  
  
Buffy finally broke his mantra by taking his face between her hands. "Spike..." Her face was flushed from crying, and her eyes were all puffy and red. She never looked more beautiful to him. "Spike, I..."  
  
  
Her words were cut off by his lips lightly brushing her own. Softly, slowly, he teased her mouth, nipping gently before tracing her parted lips with his tongue. She tilted her head and opened her mouth more, wanting to deepen the kiss just as much as he did. His tongue slid made its way past her teeth, eager to explore her and to make up for all the time he'd missed.  
  
  
He knew he shouldn't have cut her off. She probably had something very important that she needed to tell him. But he couldn't help it. He couldn't go even one more *second* without kissing her, without remembering how she tasted. How she felt.   
  
  
He always had been an impatient man.  
  
  
The kiss quickly went from being a gentle, tender exploration to being the fiery, passionate kisses they were used to. His hands slid underneath her tank top, lightly caressing the soft skin of her stomach. The touch became stronger, more possessive, as he worked his way up her torso and finally reached the flesh of her breasts. He kneaded them gently at first, then more firmly, and her soft moan as the pressure increased nearly did him in all by itself. She clutched to the fabric of his shirt as tightly as she could, nearly ripping it as she twisted it in her fists. With a silent communication, Buffy lifted her arms into the air and he pulled her shirt slowly over her head, their lips only parting while the top passed her face. He pulled her back to him as quickly as possible, one hand clutching the back of her neck while the other roamed up and down her back, tracing indefinable patterns. She had both hands wrapped in his hair, pressing him to her as closely as possible. Turning them both around, Spike laid Buffy down on the cool porch and leaned over top of her, just gazing at her flushed body and well-kissed lips.   
  
  
"I love you, Buffy."   
  
  
Smiling tenderly, he leaned down to continue what they started, when she put both hands flat on his chest. "Spike, wait. Stop."  
  
  
Looking completely confused, he raised himself back over her. "What's wrong?"  
  
  
Buffy sat up and found her tank top, putting it back on. Spike laid flat on his back, and sighed in disappointment. This couldn't happen again. Things were different now. She wasn't going to just kiss him and run anymore. She cared about him. She wasn't just gonna use him again.  
  
  
Was she?  
  
  
Buffy stood up and walked over to where Spike lay, then reached down a hand to help him up. He took it without saying a word, and she gave him an apologetic smile. "Spike, I want to. I *really* do."  
  
  
"But...?"  
  
  
Taking his hand, she pulled him into another hug. He could get used to this. "But...I'm not ready yet. I'm still really confused, and not just about you. Give me some time, okay?"  
  
  
Smiling widely, Spike nuzzled into her hair and inhaled its soft scent. "Long as it takes, luv. I can wait."  
  
  
Buffy backed just far enough away to look into his eyes, then reached up to plant a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. "Not too long. Promise."  
  
  
Taking his hand, she led him through the back door into the kitchen. "Did I mention how adorable you look in plaid?"  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Yay!!! Finally, a new chapter! So, *so* sorry it took so long to get it out. Real life stuff got in the way and I just temporarily lost my Muse...for about a month. But hopefully I'll be back on track now and will continue to update regularly. I promise one thing, though: even if the updates are inconsistent, I *guarantee* that I *will* finish this, no matter how long it takes! But for your sakes and mine, I hope it'll be sooner rather than later.  
  
  
  
  
Next up: Spike goes shopping and Xander gets a visitor. 


End file.
